There are certain family skeletons that most people never talk about. Sometimes those skeletons hang silently on our family trees. Sometimes they join us for Thanksgiving dinner. Sometimes they are the Uncle Al or Aunt Alice, that no one ever mentions, except in whispers and behind closed doors. Sometimes they are banished from our lives by family consensus.

I take out an old box of pictures and think of them sometimes. I think about how their burdens affected them and us. I think about what we knew, or more importantly -- I think about what we know now, when it comes to them and their lives.

Much like a game of Klondike Solitaire or Patience, as it's also known -- I lay out seven row of pictures across the table. Most of the pictures are laid face down, just like the game, it's the seven that I lay face up, that have my attention.

Note: The odds of winning at Solitaire are 81 to 92%.

I look at his picture. He looks old. Taken in a photo booth, the tiny 2"x2" picture, is one of only a few that I have of this man that I barely remember.

He should have been around at least until I was middle-aged. Yet, he died weeks after the picture was taken, when I was only seven years old.

The man in the hard hat, died when he was only fifty-one years old.

I lay beside the other three photos, the picture of a young man whose smiles were and still are, as rare as ice in hot and humid third world countries. He is still with us too.

The past shows in his face, as much as I loved him, and may still love him -- his today shares the same melancholy, as the bridesmaid's picture beside him. He's never learned how to be joyful.

Next to the man in the hard hat and the laughing man with the guitar, I place the picture of a beautiful girl in the bridesmaid dress. She is still with us.

As beautiful as she is, she looks older and more tired than her years. Most profound, is a sadness about her that I fear will remain forever. She does not know how to be happy.

I add to this grouping, the boy who never grew up, mentally stuck forever at the age of fifteen. He was younger brother of the one who didn't smile. He's still with us. However, he's the one that's been banished from family and friends by the consensus of the majority.

He's the one with the biggest heart, the one who knew how to laugh and how to make us laugh. He won't be with us for much longer. I'm afraid he'll die alone.

Lastly, I lay the picture down of the mother of the two sons. Like her middle son, she too has a personality permanently stuck in an age of immaturity, even though she's now over the age of 80. Those of us who know her well, know her pain and her reasons, but it still doesn't excuse the behavior.

She too, had the biggest heart, and she definitely knew how to make us laugh. Maybe we loved you too much, and let you get by with saying and doing too much under the disguise of wit and humor.

Swallowing hard, it's all of those pictures of the family members (myself included) beneath those seven turned up, that haunt me just as much as the revealed pictures do -- for they are the ones who forever carry the weight of the pain and the uncomfortable legacy, of the seven on top.

What did they all have in common? They either were or are alcoholics, and every one of us connected to them, were in some way and still are -- deeply affected by their alcoholism, active or not.

You see, the:

Man in the Hard Hat: He was my paternal grandfather. His cause of death - acute alcohol poisoning.

Laughing Man With the Guitar: He was my maternal grandfather. His cause of death - complications of alcoholism.

The Bridesmaid: She is my sister/best friend. She's not drank in over twenty years, but still endures the pain and the guilt. She stills wants a drink every day and that cripples her and robs her of any joy or peace.

The Man Who Doesn't Smile: He was my husband and the father of my children. He appears to have conquered his demons, but continues to live in the pain of his family legacy. I fear he'll never know joy or peace either.

The Boy Who Never Grew Up: He is my ex-brother-in-law. He never stood a fighting chance. Now ostracized from the family, he is in the end stage of acute alcoholism. He's destined to an early grave.

The Father of the Sons: He is my ex-father-in-law. He stopped drinking, but lives with the medical consequences of his a life-long abuse of alcohol.

The Mother of the Sons: She is my ex-mother-in-law. Like her ex-husband, she stopped drinking, but lives with both medical and mental consequences.

And all of us? We deal with the how alcohol destroys lives, dreams, and family stability. Some of us are destined to repeat history, this is especially true of the children and grandchildren. Some of us came close to joining them in letting this be our own demon. And some of us will never forget how much it hurt, to not know how to help someone who didn't want help. Lastly, none of us, will agree on how to best help them or how to stop this legacy.

Note: Statistically, your chances of being alcohol addicted are 26.6%.

In the last fifty years, the subjects of alcoholism and drug addiction are topics of public and common knowledge, that perhaps lulled us into thinking we "know all about it." Certainly, we all know we shouldn't drink and drive. The comatose warning ads that have been shown one too many times on television, radio, and other media, appear before us everyday. However, we may not pay much attention to them, even when they are exceptionally profound.

Our children are schooled from an early age, about the dangers of alcohol addiction and drug addiction. Bars are no longer on every corner, drive-thru liquor stores decreasing, and it's not as fashionable to party as it once was, (unless you are fairly young and still needing to prove your independence and trying to fit in). However, at the same time, the consumption of alcohol and drugs is still glamorized in the media, this is particularly true of alcohol.

Despite all of our enlightenment, over ten million of our children in the U.S. under the age of twenty and as young as the age of twelve, have alcohol problems. Furthermore, it's still a fact that one out of every three Americans have problems with alcohol at least at some stage or age of their lives. Estimates are that alcoholism costs us $186 billion a year to treat. One hundred thousand die from alcohol related deaths every year. One half of all traffic accidents involve alcohol. More importantly, alcoholism destroys families and robs people of their futures.

Genetic pre-disposition towards alcoholism can't be discarded from the equation of how or why someone becomes an alcoholic. Alcoholism does run in about half of the families of alcoholics. It is now known that children of alcoholics, are four to nine times, more likely to become alcoholics. What is especially alarming is that among males, sons of alcoholic fathers, are at the greatest risk. They are nine times more likely to have problems with alcohol, than their sisters.

Other factors contribute to a pre-disposition towards alcoholism that do not have anything to do with genetics. A person is more likely to have problems with alcohol abuse if:

• Peer pressure of both friends and co-workers are involved
• Friends and families are actively involved in a lifestyle of drinking alcohol regularly
• Cultural viewpoints are a factor
• They live in a geographically area where alcohol is more acceptable as a lifestyle

Back in the not so recent days when we were all so judgmental as a society, alcoholism and alcoholics were viewed as individuals who were somehow flawed, and lacking willpower. The general sentiment was and still is to a certain degree, "They could stop if they wanted to."

Then, as a society we progressed to looking at alcoholism as a "disease." Indeed, genetically there is a link. Today, however, it is now believed that alcoholism (and other addictions) are emotional disorders with a genetic pre-disposition.

This means that most often these addictions, particularly with alcoholism, can be cured by means of intense psychological and medical care. When properly treated, the emotional past and emotional stresses of the alcoholic -- the need to drink disappears.